


If You Had Been Merciful

by Lavisyste



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Asgardians Work Differently Because I Say So, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hela Kidnapped Her Brothers for a better life, Hurt/Comfort, It's My AU And I Can Do What I Want, Odin's A+ Parenting, Single Mom Hela, Single Parents, Yeah It's Hard But It's Honest Work, crackships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-02-09 23:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavisyste/pseuds/Lavisyste
Summary: He sees her for what he wants her to be, for what he can shape her as. He does not see her as she truly was. He believes himself merciful.Hela heavily disagrees.This shall be her final vegenance, she thinks, as she spares a last glance at her home from the bridge, baby Loki and todder Thor in hand. This shall be the death of his empire, the one he worked so hard to built, the one he shaped her to kill for.And they will all find happiness, somewhere else.





	1. I've Run Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

It had been the _worst_ night of her life.

Her heart was racing. As she marched on the bridge, she almost couldn’t believe what she was doing. She was scared. She was hurt. She was angry. She was so many things all at once, _breaking_ , and she hated every second of it. Her heart _ached_ , as she took a breath and stared at the brilliant night sky above her. Stars and ancient constellations never to be seen again, as a comet soared in the distance. The realm shrinking as she kept walking away, so small from her point of view. Barely a hint of the shimmering gold of a place she once called home. Once she turned her back on it, it would cease to exist at all. It pained her to think she’d never see it again.

But it was a real possibility, that future. That she’d never see her home again.

Fenris walked behind her at a steady pace, his hulking mass causing vibrations under her feet. He huffed, pushing her forward whenever she stopped. Fenris was a very good wolf, she thought, as she rested her head on his snout, one arm cradling a baby Loki and the other hand holding tight to little Thor. Her beloved brothers, who all of this was for. Thor seemed confused, but quiet, and a little scared. Loki, thankfully, slept peacefully in her arm.

She had to press forward. She could not go back.

 

 

 

Odin had been… _changing,_ for a long time. Hela had been watching it happen in slow motion. He took fewer and fewer new conquests, shed less blood, and started leaving her  _behind_ to wait impatiently at home. He would stand on his balcony, gesturing down to all of Asgard below him, speaking of his new dreams. Odin wanted to be “peaceful”; he wanted to be “benevolent”, instead of sticking to the war path that had forged their entire empire.

That same empire that they watched over right at that very moment, the evening sun shining down on the glory she had fought so long for. Asgard _dazzled_ , and it was because of those same conquests. It was because of all she had fought for her, in  _his_ name. She had committed all sorts of atrocities, to please him. To gain land, to gain power. She had done  _everything_ in her power to become  _exactly_ what he wanted and this is what he was telling her, at her age? When all was said and done?

He had grown  _tired_ of the bloodshed, he had explained to her. The time for war and conquest was done. And Hela just could  _not_ understand. She could not understand! The man she knew who was supposed to be her father, mighty and strong and unrelenting, was  _softening_ up! Like  _butter_! And again, what was to happen to her, the perfect Goddess of Death he had raised? How was she supposed to place her sword down, after everything? Was she just supposed to  _forget_ she had been taught to kill a man at the tender age of six? That she was told it was her  _purpose_?

After all he had ingrained in her, how could she move on like nothing happened? She was angry, and she was not afraid of letting it show.

They had spoken again after dinner one night, at the same balcony. The warmth of the sun had left, leaving only the bitter chill of the moon. As he looked down at all of Asgard, safe in their beds, Hela was expecting the same lesson. The same speech on how he wanted to  _change_ , and that meant she had to change too. It was what he  _wanted_ of her, after all. In order to fit with his new vision, Hela had to remake herself entirely. That was why it was this balcony that overlooked their home. He wanted to guilt her with the lives he made her swore to protect.

But no, that wasn’t what happened. Not entirely.

“Hela, you know very well by now I tire of war and violence. There is little left to gain. Would it not be better to leave a legacy of peace for your future children, instead of violence?” He asked her, and she huffed.

 

“As long as we stay in control,  _Father_ ,” she spat out, “There will be peace.”

 

“No, my child,” he shook his head. “Control through fear and might will only last so long. We must build something to outlast us. A tree that will shade others. A better world... for my son.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Your son?” What son? He only had her! 

 

“Yes, Hela, I do believe I forget to tell this to you, but your mother and I have tried for another child. He shall be named Thor, and he will be the next God of Thunder. As such, we have decided it would best for you to forfeit your claim to the throne, and allow Thor to ascend when he is of age.” He said so simply, like it was the only option. Like it was the only option that made any _sense,_ and all with this  _ease_ -

 

“No!” She shouted, backing away, her fists clenched tightly. “No, you  _cannot_ do this to me! I am your firstborn! I sacrificed my entire  _childhood_ for you! Because it was what  _you_ wanted! And now you come to me, demanding change?! Demanding me to play along with your foolish ways! Demanding up I give up the throne!”

 

“Hela, my daughter, please understand this is for the  _best_ -”, He attempted to reason with her, but it was no use. She would not hear it.

 

“Oh, the best for  _you_ , isn’t it! Because you cannot shape  _me_ anymore, Father, is that it! But oh, with your precious son, you can do whatever you _want_ all over again!” She cried out as tears stung her eyes. Her breath staggering, she turned away, and ran away. He called out for her but she did not listen, running into the night and out of the palace, wishing to be anywhere but in Asgard.

 

Odin wanted a better world. But he wanted a better world for his  _son_. No matter the cost.

 

She escaped to Midgard.

.

 

 

 

 

In the months that came, Hela was thrown to the sidelines. No longer needed as an executioner, she was expected to slowly withdraw herself from the public eye as all the attention went onto Thor. It was just easier that way, her father explained. Since she refused to change, the  _least_ thing she could do was stay out of the  _way_. Odin never explicitly said it, but it was the same sentiment in the end, wasn’t it? He couldn’t control her, so he had no need of her. Hela was not afraid of her father, and would openly challenge him, if not for her mother.

The All Mother,  _her_ mother. Frigga pleaded with Hela to let Odin do as he wished, because it was the only choice. She had come to her room late at night, just before Hela was to snuff her candle for the night. She raised her eyebrow wearily as her mother had approached her bed, sitting next to her. Then, her mother hugged her and started…… crying. Frigga sobbed into her shoulder, and Hela’s hands slowly moved to hug her mother, shocked and confused.

Frigga had never been the crying type, for as long as Hela could remember. Much like Odin, she was a statue of strength and resilience, never backing down. Frigga walked where she pleased and let no one deny her. To see her so distraught was disconcerting to Hela, and troublesome all around. It meant something awful was on the horizon, something her mother could not stop.

 

In her confusion and shock, all she could mutter was how crying so much was bad for the baby.

 

“Oh, my darling Hela. There are no words to say how much I’ve failed you. Please, forgive me.” She asked softly, and there was no question in Hela’s mind.

 

“Of course, Mother, you have done nothing wrong.” She replied as she hugged her mother tighter, and Frigga only cried again.

 

“If only I could believe you. Please, take care of your brother.”

 

Right, Thor. Odin’s new heir, his new  _golden_ child. The one who would take the throne when he was of age. It still made her bitter when she thought back on it, when her father told her she would not have the throne any longer. Because he didn’t trust her. Because he couldn’t  _control_ her. Because she was no longer what he  _wanted._ She hated him, but anything of her mother, she would do.

 

“I promise.”

 

 

 

 

He was  _erasing_ her.

 

Painting by painting, statue by statue, tapestry by tapestry - he was  _erasing_ her. It started not long after Thor was born, after she was not allowed to attend his ceremony. Odin ordered the entire palace be cleaned for “renovations”; it just so  _happened_ said renovations also included Odin’s revisionist history. And slowly, but surely, Hela saw every last reminder of the father she once knew go up in smoke, burnt, hidden away, all to ash.

Even the ceiling mural was replaced. She held the plaster bucket as artisans spread it all over, on her father’s request. He wanted her to be a part of it, even as something as small as this. To prove a  _point._

It was becoming very clear, in her eyes, that she no longer had a place in her father’s new world.

So long as Hela did nothing about it, per her mother’s request not that long ago, as much as it  _angered_ her - Odin was content to let live. She found herself in the darker corners of the palace, Fenris shrunk down to the size of a normal wolf so he could accompany her. It was one of the few things he had let her keep, and she was going to guard her loyal friend with her life.

They would stalk the hallways of the palace, late at night, when all was quiet and everyone had gone to bed. In the shadows where no one could see her, Hela mourned. She mourned the loss of her father, a great man she once knew. She mourned for her mother, who no doubt had a great burden placed on her by Odin. She mourned for her brother, for if her life was so easily uprooted into dust, what life would Thor lead them? When he was no longer what their father  _wanted_?

This stalemate of theirs was never going to last forever; she was no fool. But she did not realize just how  _bad_ it had gotten.

On a lonely night, she passed by her father and mother’s room. They were shouting, they were in an argument, and curious, Hela pressed her ear to eavesdrop on what was going on. What she heard shattered her whole world anew, sinking into the sea.

 

“You cannot do this, Odin! She is  _your_ daughter! I may have not birthed her, but I  _know_ her. She will retaliate, and what choice will you have then?” Her mother was crying again, but she was angry, frustrated.

 

“I must, Frigga. For our family. Hela will not listen. If I seal her away, then she will no longer be able to harm anyone. She will not be able to rebel against me, and we can live in peace, as a family.” He pleaded with her, but Frigga did not budge.

 

“And what family will that be, Odin? One where your daughter never existed? Left to die alone, separated from all she’s ever known? She listened to me when I asked her to stop. I have done my best.” Frigga tried explaining to him, but Odin would not budge either.

 

“She’s still dangerous, Frigga.” He said simply, because it was true. She  _was_ dangerous. She could destroy armies with one swing of her sword. She had destroyed entire empires. But he had taught her so. And now he changed. To someone she didn’t know.

 

“Because you made her so, Odin. Because you made her  _so_.” With an exasperated sigh, Frigga’s voice became quiet.

 

“And that is why I will be the one to seal her. The only thing I ask of you is to understand.”

 

Hela stopped then, moving away from her parent’s bedrooms and out back into the hallway as she wept into her hands. Odin truly thought the best solution was to seal her away, and act as if she had never existed. That had been why all of her glorious moments had been erased, the ceiling mural made into a blank canvas. Her undead soldiers resting in a tomb deep underground, where Fenris would have joined them, if she had not fought tooth and nail for him.

 

Just what kind of father who just…throw away a child? His  _own_ daughter?

 

Seemingly completely replaced by Thor, she made her way to his room. Anger, jealousy and hatred made a potent cocktail in her heart. It had to be _his_ fault, wasn’t it? Thor was the cause of all of this. If he had never been born, perhaps she’d still have the throne. Perhaps her father wouldn’t be so eager to  _abandon_ her and all they had fought for. She’d still have all the realms, she’d inherit everything and make it even grander. There wouldn’t have been one being in all the nine realms who would not know her name.

She grabbed him, going to squeeze, but then he just smiled at her, and giggled like babes did. She couldn’t go through with it. Sighing, she laid him down as she gripped the cradle. She would be breaking her promise. Her mother asked her to protect Thor. Her mother would  _hate_ her, and Hela would hate herself for it.

What good did blaming Thor anyway do? He wasn’t casting her out.

 

In the morning, she escaped to Midgard again. Fenris was left on her bed.

 

 

 

 

Hela had not taken things _well._

 

Instead of destroying an entire mountainside on some distant planet, Hela had locked herself in her room. She wished she could destroy _something_ ,  _anything_ , but no - that would just provide Father Dearest  _right_ , and she’d get sealed away for all of eternity.

Where would she even  _go?_ What part of the ever expansive galaxy would she even be tossed  _into?_ Would she recognize it? Would she know? Or would it be like death, nothing at all? A  _true_ death, non-existence. That was scared her the most, she felt, as she pulled her sheets over her. She didn’t know, and she wouldn’t know until it happened. But she didn’t want it to happen, so she was left to wonder in fear.

In her dreams, she pleaded with Odin anyway she knew how. But every single time, he would refuse, saying that it was for the best and that she could not change his mind. She cried, and he showed her no sympathy, walking away.

 

“Please don’t do this! I’m scared not to exist! Aren’t…..you?”

 

There was no answer.

 

Sometimes, a tiny Thor would find his way into her room. He pretended he was this grand adventurer like Odin, and since he was too small to be much of anything, the palace was his first adventure. It both disgusted her and made her feel nostalgic about the times when she was his age, and the palace was just being built. She would wander the unfinished halls, spotting scaffolding and the beginnings of stone work. Little Hela would dream then, of how beautiful her home would be.

 

_“I’ll sit on the throne one day, Father, won’t I? I’ll be big enough for it!” She giggled as Odin knelt down to hug her._

 

_“Yes, Hela. You’ll make a wonderful queen.”_

 

For the most part, she did not let Thor into her room.

 

But he still found a way in.

 

Her escapades to Midgard never pleased Odin. Once upon a time, he felt she was running from her duty. A true ruler stayed in their realm all the time, he would lecture her. She needed to be here in case of an emergency, for her training. He did not exactly scold her for being curious, but he had been none too happy about it. Now, she simply ran away from him without a word.

She sat alone, eating a Midgardian ice cream she had bought earlier. It was peanut butter and chocolate, and she liked it a lot. She was starting to like Midgardian food a lot more, since it was becoming all she ate. Often, she had no desire or motivation to go to the dining hall for any meals - it was just going to end in another argument, and Odin had made it clear he didn’t want her anymore. The least she could do was  _inconvenience_ him.

Thor found his way into her room again, bravely climbing up next to her, as he looked at the carton pint in her hand.

 

“What’s that, Sister?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes.

 

“Midgardian ice cream. It’s like…. Frozen milk. I guess. It’s pretty good.” She shrugged, and kept eating, hoping that answer would satisfy him and he would leave her alone.

 

“Oh! Can I try it, Sister?” He asked again, with those giant baby blue eyes of his, and she squinted, almost in disbelief. He would really ask her that he wanted to try some of her ice cream. He was  _that_ comfortable with her, apparently.

 

“Sure, I guess.” Well, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt  _that_ much.

 

Maybe there  _was_ as part of her heart that melted when Thor tried a spoonful and smiled really wide, clearly enjoying it. She had no idea on what exactly he was eating, but she could imagine it was probably standard fare for his age. Though, Midgardian sweets had no real equal. They sure loved to come up with ways to make everything  _sweeter._

 

“What’s Midgard like, Sister? Mother says you love to go there.”

 

She shrugged.

 

“It’s a place, I guess. There’s a lot of different things you can do there, and a lot of sights to see. It’s a little overwhelming at first but once you get used to it, it’s not hard to find your way around. I have a lot of fun over there. No one cares who you are. You can just…. live.”

 

He nodded, and then hugged her. That was a surprise.

 

“I wish we lived on Midgard, Sister. So you could be happy again.”

 

She hugged him back.

 

 

 

 

Things deteriorated further once Loki arrived.

No doubt stolen from the battlefields she was no longer allowed to walk upon, it seemed Odin was more than happy to just “adopt” a Frost Giant baby and declare him his son. He paid her no mind, of course, only excited about the future he would have. Without her.

And despite having done _everything_ in her power to stay in “line”, as her mother suggested, it seemed her displeasure at Odin’s “adoption” pushed tensions over the edge. How could she not be upset at what Odin had done? For all she knew, he had _stolen_ the baby, which was probably what had happened.

The grand solution, of course, was going to be sealing her away. The next morning. Naturally, she disagreed heavily. While she had not completely changed, she had at least done what was asked of her and stayed out of the _way_. She had pretended as if she didn’t existed, let her baby brother inherit her throne, never showed her face and locked herself in her room. But no, it had to be done at dawn, no sooner or no later.

 

He had asked her to forgive him.

 

She had told him no.

 

 

 

 

With unsteady hands, and a heavy heart, in the dead of night, Hela packed her things.

She took what she needed the most: her hammer, her swords, food and drink, clothing, pillow, the most important books, and her bedsheets, to hold it all in. With a racing heart, she snuck into both of her brother’s rooms, and took them, Fenris not far behind her, gripping the bedsheet bag in his teeth. This was the most foolish decision she had ever done, but Hela had never felt more sure of herself in her life.

Hela encountered Frigga in the hallways, as she was making her escape from the palace. For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them as Hela held on tight to Thor and Loki, and Frigga made no move to stop them. She felt like she was stared right through, as if she didn’t exist, but then… her mother nodded, and waved her goodbye.

 

“Goodbye, my children. May happiness find you elsewhere.” Her mother whispered softly and Hela nodded.

 

“Goodbye, Mother.” She said, not trying to cry as she ran past her mother as to not go back, to resist the temptation to stay. It hurt, immeasurable so, to run away from the one person who had always shown her kindness no matter what she had done, but there was no choice left. Fenris shifted back to his normal size, once they were out of the city. 

 

As she held Thor's hand, telling him to be quiet as they walked on the bridge, and held Loki in her free arm, she thought about what she was doing. She barely looked out of her teens, twenty at the eldest. Thor was only a few years old, and Loki was a babe of only a couple of months. She was kidnapping them, children, taking them away from their family. But if she stayed..... Odin was set on sealing her, and taking her away from her brothers. If he was so at ease to seal away his daughter, his firstborn, what would he do to Thor? Or Loki, not even of his own blood? She hated them for what they had caused, yes, but she couldn't bear the thought just the same.

It was to be her last vengeance. He'd never see his precious heir, or his Jotunn son again. Hela would make sure of it. And the fool had already erased her from most of his history. He'd have to blame a boogeyman, and that thought brought her happiness.

Heimdall looked at her with an unreadable expression, as she requested to cross. He asked her if she knew what she was doing. She said she knew.

 

"Do you have any regrets?" He asked her.

 

"No. Regrets are pointless. I cannot take back this action."

 

She held them tight, as they crossed.

 

 

 

 

 

Midgard was…. Midgard.

Perhaps not the perfect solution, but with her fondness for it, and the fact they would be relatively safe, it had been a good choice. Here, they would have to be pretend to be human, and she would be their mother now. But hopefully, they would live a good life, and she would be able to raise them without the fear of Odin doing anything to them.

From her many rebellious trips to Midgard, she knew she’d need “papers”, for all three of them. Midgardians loved their identification, as it was a way to track everyone, no matter where they were. If she wanted to live in a city, she’d need papers. Obtaining them was a bit of hassle, as she had to do so illegally, and that involved threatening a few humans. Despite how simple she seemed to be, a young woman with two infant children, she made it very clearly very quickly she was not one to be  _used._ She received her papers in no time.

The next hassle was finding a place to stay, but with the right people and her sob story of a young mother who had ran away from her abusive partner, she landed a small apartment in the city. Her older, kindly landlord took pity on her and her situation, and explained he was willing to waive off the first month of rent so she didn’t have to worry about the roof over her family’s head while she looked for a job. He had a similar story in his youth. His wife had a mother who was none too pleased with him, and had threatened to kill them. So, they ran to the big city and were happy ever since.

With that bargain, and the fact food was going to run out at some point, Hela did get herself a human "job", working in the service industry. As much as it killed her, she had no human education,  as she had not bothered to fake a degree - and Thor and Loki were under her care. She had to provide for them, now.

At least Fenris could be shrunken down - he would still look like a wolf, but at least he would fit into the apartment. And no one would ask where she got a giant wolf.

With only a mattress to her name (left over from a former tenant), she set up her bed with her sheets, one of the few reminders of home. She placed her hammer, and her books on the top shelf of her little closet in her room, and stored what else they had in the fridge. Until she could afford separate beds for them, she would have Thor and Loki sleep with her.

Thor was curious about all the new changes their little home brought to them, the fact it was so small being one of them. It didn’t take long for him to say he had explored every inch of their apartment. He had asked her if she was happy now, and she said yes.

That night, she sighed as she nursed Loki, not trusting the baby “formula” Midgardians sold at their stores. It had taken a bit of work, but eventually, she was able to. She glanced at Thor next to her, sleeping soundly, and then to Fenris, curled up at her feet.

She would sigh, and she would hope for a better tomorrow. That's what Midgardians would do, wouldn't they? Hope for a better tomorrow. She hoped along with them, that this plan of hers would work out, and she wouldn't see Odin at her door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyy hope you guys like this!! personally im writing this to fill out a niche i WANT to see but if you guys want to jump on this crazy train too then all the better
> 
> also i know that hela/stephen strange (doctor strange) seems like a rlly weird pairing but trust me i have notes from an old rp i did with a buddy and youll see how the dynamic works!! it just works - todd howard
> 
> chapter title was taken from Run To You by Pentatonixx and theres a homestuck reference in here too haha. can you find it?
> 
> EDIT: (1/1/2020) minor grammatical errors


	2. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life begins taking an ordinary routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have answered all your prayers!! Your new chapter has been delivered to you. Official Word of Author (aka me) is that If You Had Been Merciful will update monthly, and rougly at or around the 29th of each month.
> 
> So, for those of you who were asking me to continue, you have a schedule now! I also don't know how many chapters I plan to do, but I'm thinking it's probably going to be 20+. So, we're in it for the long haul haha
> 
> hope u guys enjoyed this chapter and didnt think i abandoned you xD

The morning after was the worst part.

 

Hela was aware of the consequences of her actions; she knew what she had done, and what she had said. She was right when she said it was pointless to regret what she was doing, because it was something she couldn’t take back. But in the morning, she was faced with the reality of what she had done. Truly _faced_ it, without the fear or rush of adrenaline that had fueled her escape. She was now living in a small, shitty apartment in New York City. She was now going to be a struggling mother of two gods, while still being a young goddess herself. Not that she could tell anyone - _no one_ could ever know, so Thor and Loki would be safe. She came here to pretend to a human, and she had to stick with that.

She couldn’t go back to Asgard. Her father had already been dead set on sealing her. She couldn’t imagine what he must be like now, finding his sons gone and with her nowhere in sight. There was no turning back, and she didn’t know how hard it would hit, after the dust was settled and there was nothing else for her to do but move on.

A big part of her was angry with herself. Angry that she let all of this happen, angry that she let herself fall so far from where she was. Angry she hadn’t done something sooner.  But the more rational Hela knew that there was to be no barter with Odin, no bargaining, no second chances. She wouldn’t be able to win against him, and then, she’d be sealed away in who knew _what_ , and her two little brothers would suffer just the same. As much as she absolutely hated herself for it, she knew there was no winning against Odin in battle. But this? Taking off with his beloved sons and leaving him with nothing? That was her victory. _That_ was her victory, and she was not going to let them go. No matter the cost.

“I guess I’m just as much a fool like you, Father,” she smiled, as a few tears rolled down her face.

She held sleeping Loki close to her chest, and brushed away sleeping Thor’s hair to kiss him on the forehead. Hela couldn’t promise them the world, like Odin promised her, and she refused to. She had seen what it had done, what it had done _to_ her. But she would offer something better.

She promised them she’d give them a _home_.

 

 

 

 

 

Her landlord dropped by. She sighed, and vented to him as they sat outside on the steps of the apartment. The great news is that she did find a job, and she was going to be able to pay rent, but there was going to be a problem. They had given her a nightshift on account of her two brothers – who she just called her children to make things easier – but Loki was still an _infant_ , and she still had to _nurse_ him. It wasn’t like she had any money to hire a babysitter to help feed Loki, either. She was completely on her own and had no idea what to do. Her landlord simply nodded, understanding her phlight.

“I hear you. Being a working mom is tough these days.” He replied, nodding again.

She squinted at him, raising an eyebrow. “So….. What do I do?”

He leaned to the side a bit, thinking. “Well….. My daughter has a spare breast pump she’s not using. She got it when she couldn’t find the first one her husband had bought. She just finished nursing too. I’m sure if I ask her, she wouldn’t loaning it to you until you can give it back.”

She squinted in confusion. “What’s a breast pump?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, I see. I’ll call her and tell her to come over.”

An hour or so later, the landlords’ daughter came over with the breast pump. It was in a white box, with the words ‘breast pump’ written on the front in black marker. The woman holding the box was a little older than Hela, and short with brown hair and hazel eyes. She smiled, and Hela figured she must have looked more like her mother because glancing between her and the landlord, they didn’t look alike. They both had the same eyes, but that was about all she could notice at a glance.

“I heard from my dad you’re a working mom? God, I feel that. My husband lost his old construction job, y’know, and I had to go work an office job. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work.” She smiled wide as she gave Hela the box, and Hela just stood there, awkwardly nodding.

“I put the manual inside, and I gave you all the bottles I have, since I figured you could use all the help you can get! You probably didn’t have any anyways, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t have any bottles.” She replied. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem! Good luck with your new baby! Oh, and you can keep the milk in the fridge for five days, but it’s best to use all of it within three days. I hope that helps!” She waved goodbye, hugged her father, and got into her car and drove away. Hela was now left with a box, bottles, and some general advice. It was certainly better then where she was an hour ago. She thanked her landlord for his help, and he left shortly after, leaving Hela to figure out what the hell she needed to do.

Honestly, using a breast pump might have been one of the worst things she’d ever had to do to herself.

Sitting alone in the bathroom, attached to a weird machine and feeling her skin being pulled was not a pleasant experience. In fact, she felt little more than a dirty animal, and she very much _hated_ it. But she didn’t trust the baby formula they sold at the store, and Loki was still too young to be weaned, so she had to suck it up and deal with it. She couldn’t take maternity leave so soon into her job either. Groaning, she just sat back and recounted old verses and songs until she was done and made sure she had enough. She kept reminding herself that it was for Loki, and it wouldn’t be forever. She just had to be _patient_. As much as it hurt.

Even if it was fucking _awful_.

Because she wasn’t always going to be there, she pulled Thor aside a little later when she was feeding Loki, and taught him how to give his brother a bottle when he got hungry. She taught him how to heat it up in the microwave – now that she figured the damn thing out – how to tell when the bottle was too hot, and how to hold Loki. She promised it wasn’t going to be like this forever, but for the moment, she needed his help to make sure Loki was feed. The next step would be changing diapers, but Hela was too exhausted for that.

“Alright, do you think you can handle it?” She asked him, and he nodded.

“Yeah! I’ll be the best big brother ever!” He grinned.

She hugged him, and hoped for the best.

 

 

 

 

 

Work was a special type of hell. 

 

Boarding the overcrowded subway at five thirty, she would leave Fenris in charge of Thor and Loki while she was gone. The train was always pretty miserable. The underground tunnels smelled _terrible_ , and the passengers were often rude and careless. She’d often have to shove herself in between people she didn’t want to be between, and people who didn’t want her near them. But she’d be damned if she was going to miss her shift just because a stranger didn’t like her. They would just have to _deal_ with it, like she was dealing with it.

She missed the days where she could just kill a person who pissed her off.

There were _silver_ linings, she supposed. New York was a big city, and there was always someone new on the train she took. So, to make things easier, she made it a game to guess who would come on the train next. Sometimes, she was right, and sometimes she was wrong, and sometimes? She just didn’t know what to think of the person who had joined from the next stop. But, she did notice a few regulars. A young woman with bright pink hair, who had faded colorful stains on her white shirts and carried a large square bag. She would be at the end of the train, and she never spoke to anyone. A strong, tall redheaded woman who often had her husband accompany her. They would talk about “business”, and old friends. A pair of teenage twins who came home late, each with a streak of pink and blue in their hair. They would play card games, and the girl always won. Sometimes, they called up old friends to chat about life.

Everyone but her had a way to pass the time. She really needed to get some headphones and some music, so she could ignore half of what she was hearing.

Her workplace _sucked_. It was a fast food “restaurant”, with a poorly-drawn chicken as the logo. She didn’t even think the artist they hired even _knew_ how to draw birds, but upper management had accepted it anyways and called it “creative freedom”. She never bought it. There was creative freedom, and then there was simply not knowing how to draw. Judging by the off-colored misshaped blob, she figured it was the latter. But fine, she wouldn’t protest against her manager.

Mostly, she worked as a cashier, but when they were really busy, she would also work in the kitchen, flipping oddly shaped chicken burgers and frying bad fries. The job _sucked_. It paid but it _sucked_. The customers were always angry and rude, the managers never gave a single fuck about what was going on the floor, and every co-worker seemed hell-bent on sabotaging each other for a raise. As much as she’d _like_ to very much punch in _several_ of their faces, she sucked it up and just kept herself out of the drama. Hela had two boys who depended on her – she couldn’t be petty anymore.

One of her co-workers was crushing her, she noticed one day. It was a teenage boy, still in school, helping out his father. He was fairly short, and loved to joke around with everyone. It wasn’t long before she noticed his painful attempts to be “subtle”; whenever shifts were slow, he’d always find a way to stand or sit next to her, and he stared whenever he thought she didn’t notice. On her breaks, he would sit with her as they eat chicken paste, and he would ask her how she was doing, if she was single, and how things were going. Was she in school, was she not? Did she plan to be in school? Did she have any pets? She answered honestly that she wasn’t in “school”, and she didn’t plan to be in any higher education… yet, she guessed. She didn’t have money. She had a dog, and she was single. He seemed overexcited for that.

The next day, when they were about to close, she put things to rest before they got out of hand.

“Listen……. Dave,” she started, sighing. “I… appreciate your interest, but I have two kids to take care of at home. I don’t have time for dating. I’m not interested in you.”

Dave blinked at her and shook his head.

“You’re like, what? Twenty-two? And you’re already a mom? Wow, okay. Thanks for telling me. I didn’t realize I was talking to someone who just slept around and didn’t care. Don’t you regret it?” He looked at her like she had done the worst decision of her life, and perhaps a younger Hela would agree. She had given up her world, her throne, her place at her parent’s side and all her power, to work in a shitty job on a shitty planet with two baby boys who were not old enough to quite understand the ramifications of what she had done. But she wasn’t young Hela anymore, and she had started to make peace with her decisions, no matter how hard it was.

“No. I don’t.” She replied, facing him head on and keeping herself straight. She would not back down from this.

They stopped talking after that.

Hela was glad for it. It meant she no longer had to entertain a child, and he could stop his delusion that he would ever get with her. Eventually, he found a better job after he graduated, and she never saw Dave again. She thought little of him, until one of the older women had asked about any funny stories about old co-workers, and she brought Dave up. The older woman laughed when she heard the story, shaking her head.

“Kids sure love to talk and judge on stuff they know nothing about, huh? Didn’t even realize you were way too old for him. Ah, boys.”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”

_“Hela, my daughter, please understand this is for the best -”_

_“Oh, the best for you, isn’t it! Because you cannot shape me anymore, Father, is that it! But oh, with your precious son, you can do whatever you want all over again!”_

She had found a convince store open late at night, and bought a new pair of headphones. She used her new pair on the ride home.

 

 

 

 

 

Visiting a grocery store for the first time was a challenge.

 

Loki was young enough to have basically been born on Earth; he acted like most other babies would, and he thankfully wasn’t too fussy that morning. Thor, on the other hand, was a _completely_ different story. He was young, but old enough to remember bits and pieces of Asgard that she was sure would slowly fade with time. For now, they were still very fresh, and he treated the store just like a brand new adventure. He asked questions on just every little thing he saw, and Hela had honestly stopped keeping count after the twenty-six question he asked. She had forgotten how curious a child could be.

_“What does this flower do, Father? It’s such a bright blue!” A young girl asked as she plucked one from the garden ruins of a temple hall, on a planet she had not asked the name of._

_“That’s a poison, Hela. Don’t eat it,” he warned her gently._

Unfortunately, the troubles hadn’t ended there either. Just like any other young child in the store, Thor also wanted to impulsively buy everything, and she kept having to tell him no every turn. She wasn’t made of money, she had a budget, and she had a list. She _wished_ she could buy everything in the store. That would make things so much easier, but she had to be a _proper_ adult in society, and that meant keeping within the budget her shitty job provided. She could _not_ buy Thor everything he wanted, and she put her foot down before there was a scene.

Thor got upset, as little boys often did. She sighed, kneeling down in front of him.

“I know you’re upset. I can get you some things, but I can’t buy all of it, do you understand? I still need to pay for the rent and other important things.” She tried reprimanding in a tone that sounded strong, but fair. Unlike Odin, she was not going to scare Thor into obedience. She was not going to treat him like he treated her.

_“Well, Hela? Will you strike or not? **Finish him**!” _

She swallowed, and looked at him, and _hoped_ he’d understand. After a few moments of silence, Thor gave in and hugged her.

“Thank you. Now, come on. What do you want to keep?” She smiled, and he showed her a cereal box. Red, white and blue, and based off a man called Captain America. She raised an eyebrow. All things considered, he definitely looked like he would be the country’s pretty boy, and it didn’t sit well with her. A warrior should never wear flashy colors, she thought.

“Looks like trouble, Thor. Pretty obnoxious too.”

“I like him!” He frowned, and Hela chuckled.

“Alright, whatever you say.”

The lady at the checkout laughed at her. “A first time mom, huh? You’re pretty young to have children. But I guess you had too much fun and forgot to stop,” she winked at Hela as she passed the annoying cereal box over the scanner, and Hela glared in return. She had been judged _enough_ for her choices. She had judged herself _enough_. She did not need another reminder on how yes, she looked too young to have children, how she didn’t know what she was doing, and how sometimes, she just wanted to go back home like nothing ever happened.

“ _Yeah, I guess so_.” She gritted out, trying to keep her cool and not grab the woman by the throat.

Sensing she struck a nerve, the lady stopped her laughing as she gave Hela the receipt. “Well, good luck.”

“Thanks.” She replied as she pocketed her receipt.

“ _Don’t you regret it?”_

She found out she had broken the plastic covering and bended the metal handle of the cart as she left it in the parking lot.

 

 

 

 

 

Summer came.

 

With the changing of the seasons, she found that her initial anger and bitterness toward her father had slowly been fading away, leaving only energy for her two growing little brothers. Pretending to be a mom was hard, especially as a single mother of two who had to also be the sole provider of the household. Reflecting on her previous life, being a queen would have not been too much different. She would have help, of course, and everything would have been on a _much_ grander scale, but ultimately, it was the same thing. As queen, she would look out after her people like a mother watched over her children.

She sighed, chuckling. She supposed she was getting soft too after all.

Though with the fading presence of her father in her mind, she noticed others started to ask after him more. Whenever she went out to buy clothes for Thor and Loki, or when she went to store, or watched them play in the neighborhood, people would often ask where the father was. Was he dead, was he alive? Did he simply not care? Some people even fancied Hela a “party girl”, and she rolled her eyes. She _had_ been a rebellious teenager, but she _definitely_ wasn’t a “party girl”. She drank responsibly. Not like it mattered – she still didn’t have a car. For the most part, she ignored the questions, saying she had her reasons and that it was no one else’s business.

One summer’s day in the park, however, she had answered someone once. It had been a young father of a little girl, though he was still a little older then her. His wife had left him for another man, and left their four year old daughter with him. He had a good job, lived in a good area, and could provide for his daughter just fine, but that hadn’t been the bad part. The bad part, he had said, was how lonely he felt. She was his high school sweetheart, and he couldn’t imagine she had been so disinterested in him. The worst part was explaining to his daughter her mother was never coming home.

“Away from us,” she replied, as she watched Fenris chase after Thor, and held Loki as he looked onwards from the bench, “where he won’t dare hurt us anymore.”

“Sounds tough. Glad you were able to get away.” He sighed, chuckling as his own little girl joined in the doggy chase. “I just… felt so blindsided, you know? It’s like I didn’t even know her.”

_“And that is why I will be the one to seal her. The only thing I ask of you is to understand.”_

“Yeah,” she said, looking down.

 

This was the path Hela had chosen for herself, she thought as she stared at the mirror one night. She had returned from her shift late, tired, and sweaty; she sighed in relief when she saw her two brothers safe in bed with Fenris huddled next to them. She took a shower, wiping off all the grime from the day and all the grease stains. She looked at herself in the mirror again, a little older then she was when she first arrived on Earth. She looked at her hair, and made a decision.

She took a pair of scissors, and she cut her hair short.

Watching raven locks fall into the sink, she knew this was a turning point. Hair for Asgardians was a sense of pride. It showed status, and strength, and to have it cut – especially unwillingly – was a sign of a loss of control and humiliation. To willingly cut her hair like she did was a defiant act, a way of cementing this grand change in her life. She acknowledged what she had done, and she had cut herself off from her former life. What hadn’t fallen in the sink was tied up neatly, and stored in the box in her closet, where she stored others things from Asgard.

She ran her fingers over her bare neck, and smiled.

Summer was getting hot, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

Hela was the goddess of Death. 

 

She was the beacon, the shepherd who looked after the flock of lost souls in their journey. She tended to the recently dead, the dying, and the ancients all the same. She could still remember the drums echoing in the back of her mind as she walked over the bridge for the first time, and was told not to look back. She could remember the chants even now. In a way, the song haunted her.

She was an executioner, the being who _brought_ death. It was their stories that haunted her the most. They cried in their anguish and their hatred, their hands like vines creeping on her dress. They ripped and tore and she was _afraid_. Her heart had raced in her chest as she had to face all she had done at the tender age of eighteen.

It took a lot of courage to be able to stand. It took a long time to come to terms with it, even so long after. What Odin had made her do, and what she ended up desiring above all else.

The souls were calm now, shuffling all just the same.

She had been so young then, and she was still young now, she supposed. Child rearing had a funny way of making you look at your life so much differently. It was an overwhelming responsibility, but a choice she had never regretted.

In her dreams, she had fallen into the realm. The first time had been an accident. She had scared herself beyond belief, panicking that she had somehow been returned to Asgard, and that Odin was going to seal her away at last. She had thought of Thor and Loki, torn away from a life for the second time, and she had panicked. Surrounded by all her old things, her old room in the palace of Asgard, she grabbed the first thing that came to her mind – her swords.

She looked outside, and took a few deep breaths. She realized where she was then, and she did not know if she felt better at the time.

But at least, Odin would not come to take her away.

She had her room changed. It reflected the apartment now, and made her feel safer.

 

Hela met a young man with blond hair, and a missing eye. She found him near the bridge, lost and confused. She sat next to him, and asked what was wrong. He told her his tale, or what he remembered of it. He had lost everything, he said. His family, his people, his world. There was nothing left, and then he woke up by the bridge. He couldn’t remember any names, so he would not able to search for anyone here.

“I’m lost. What do I do?” He begged of her, and she took a moment.

“Move on. What else is there to do in death? But if you want a project, I’m thinking of a way to keep track of the dead.” She pointed to a small plateau overlooking the bridge, not that far from where they were. “I think that’s a good place to keep an office.”

He looked at her confused. “What’s an…..office?”

She smiled. “Alright, I’ll tell you.”

 

Many of the dead came to Hela in their grieving. Some were lonely, some were desperate and others still had a hard time coping. She could not promise relief to all, but she promised she would listen to all of their tales as best as she could. It seemed so unfair then, that for every elderly man or woman who simply missed their family or partners, there were at least five stories of people who were violently ripped away from their lives.

She faced those dealt death by her hand, all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thor came back early into the apartment one sunny afternoon, visibly upset. He didn’t go back outside after a few minutes, instead deciding to sulk at their dining room table, or what they had of a dining room. Hela raised an eyebrow, as she took out a few spoonfuls of orange ice cream. Thor was quick to get into fights and get upset, but he was also always quick to forgive and move on. It often amazed her at just how friendly he could be, and knew it had to come from Frigga. But, to see him sulk at the table meant it was something pretty serious, so she sat next to him with her ice cream in a mug that read ‘Best Mom in the World’. Her co-workers had gotten it for her.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, as he buried himself in his arms.

“Come on, Thor. Tell me what’s wrong.” She asked again.

“They’re making fun of me.” He replied, muffled.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Who’s making fun of you? The kids outside?” She knew Thor liked to play with the neighborhood kids a lot. It had to be them, if no one else.

He raised his head, sniffling. “Yeah. Because I don’t have a dad. They keep asking me where he is and I said I didn’t know! And then one of them went like ‘well my mom said if you only have a mom at home you come from a bad household’. So, they think you’re bad and I’m bad too. But I’m not bad!”

Hela knew she had been personally judged for a lot of her choices. She had been considered too young to be a mom of two, and others thought she was irresponsible for not having the father around. At times like these, she wondered if they would be so quick to judge if they had the full story, but she knew she was deluding herself. Migardians were always so quick to judge, over everything and anything. It bothered her to no end, but she could take it. Thor, on the other hand, was just a boy who shouldn’t and couldn’t be blamed for what happened.

“Well. I think they’re wrong. You know you’re not a bad kid. I’m not a bad mom, am I?” She asked him as he sniffled again.

“No. You’re the best mom ever,” Thor said as he hugged her, and she put an arm around his shoulder.

“And that’s the only thing that matters. Don’t listen to them, okay?” She said as she held him tight.

_“Please, take care of your brother.”_

_“I promise.”_

 

 

 

 

 

“Why are you grinning so much, mom?” Thor asked her.

“Because Loki is about to take his first steps. Look! Just watch.” She smiled as she sat on the ground, waiting for Loki to get back up. Thor sat down next to her too, pulling his knees up to watch.

A long while back, she had bought a book on child rearing. She had mainly bought it for the infant section, as she had no idea how to raise a baby. She had no real idea on how to raise Thor either, but Thor was old enough to speak and form his own opinions. He was still developing of course, but it was much easier to ask him what was going on than a baby that couldn’t talk. The book had said that Loki’s age now was when they first started to walk, and she was seeing it right in front of her. She watched on as Loki got up, almost took a step, before tumbling again.

“Come on, keeping going. You can do it!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah! You can do it, Loki,” Thor chimed in, waving at his brother.

After many, many tumbling tries, Loki took one shaky step after another, until he managed to reach Hela, and she laughed as she scooped him up. “You did it! I’m so proud.”

“But he didn’t walk good, mom.” Thor said, and she ruffled his hair.

“He’ll learn how to walk better in time, Thor. You’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

 

Thor’s birthday came first. He had been born in the summer, and they celebrated by going out to a much larger park with a forest, so he could explore and have fun like other little kids got to do. She baked his birthday cake herself – a fancy chocolate one. While she wouldn’t say she was going to be a baker anytime soon in her lifetime, it hadn’t looked too shabby. The most important part was that Thor loved it, and that he had a good birthday. He had brought back pinecones as a souvenir of his adventure to the forest.

Loki had a simple vanilla cupcake she had also made herself, and he had been born in the fall. The cupcake, being much smaller, was a little easier to make but a few of the test runs had the wrappings stuck to the cupcake. He had said his first word then too, calling her momma. She smiled then, almost crying as she hugged him. She hadn’t expected to feel so happy when he said it, but she felt it just the same. She wondered if she’d feel like a real mother now.  She wondered what word he’d say next.

Her birthday was at the end of the year, before the clock struck midnight. For own birthday, Hela just decided to order a small pizza from her favorite pizza place and get a few beers. She sat on the balcony of the apartment, alone at night. She stared up at the sky, and remembered the fear she felt on the bridge. The reality that she would never see her old home again. It was still a sad thought, but she felt like she was really going to move on. She had made a pretty good life, after all. There was no going back. She took another drink of her beer.

 

_One year older._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/1/2019 EDIT: more grammatical errors.


	3. Elementary School Daze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ultimately, you have to pursue your own path, not someone's idea of the right path. You need to stay on your path." - Baz Luhrmann

Thankfully, they were able to make it to Times Square this year without getting _trampled_.

 

It had been something Thor and Loki had missed out on in their first year on Migard; back in that first year, Hela was just trying to get settled in a life she had _no_ experience in, and she had _no_ patience or desire to try and shift through crowded streets just to _maybe_ get a good spot to watch the ball drop. _Maybe_! As in not _guaranteed_! As in _not_ worth the effort! She sorely _missed_ the days she could just kill a person if they annoyed her or looked at her funny. So, to the boys’ disappointment (mainly Thor’s), they had to stay inside that night. But, at the very least, they could watch the fireworks show from the balcony of their tiny little apartment. She could promise them that much. It hadn’t entirely pleased Thor, of course – the spoiled little brat – but it was the best she could do at the time. And of course, she promised that there would always be next year.

 

So, they had all sat in a chair she had brought from their apartment, and watched the fireworks display from afar, as it lit up the skyline.

 

And so, she held them tight, and promised she wouldn’t let them go.

 

This year, Hela was a little more patient and enduring. She was _not_ a patron saint all of a sudden, and she highly doubted she’d ever be. But, at the very least, her desire for murder and carnage had lessen – to an _extent_. It had lessen to the point where she could begrudgingly _grin and bear it_ , as they were pushed around the crowd in an effort to find a good spot. She had half a _mind_ to punch the people who kept gawking at her, but she also had half a mind to remind herself _not_ to. She couldn’t afford assault charges. She held both Thor and Loki’s hands tightly as an unleashed Fenris slipped in and out of the crowd like a funny obstacle course, making a pathway for them. Thank the Nine Realms for such a good boy. What would Hela ever do without him?

 

Beyond just murder more, of course.

 

With their spot secured, she lowered herself down to adjust both Loki and Thor’s scarves. Especially Thor’s scarf, which kept getting loose and pulled apart. Thor, of course, kept complaining that it wasn’t even that cold to begin with, and that the scarf was itchy and bothered him. She ignored his protests, and began to wrap the scarf around his neck. And then Thor pulled on it again, resulting it to fall down on the ground. You are not going to back hand your brother. You are not going to back hand your brother. You are not going to back hand your brother. Hela took a deep breath, picked up the scarf and reprimanded him for the fifteen time that night.

 

“You will listen to me, Thor Barnes. It is _freezing_. You will catch _sick_ if you don’t freeze to death first. Now, I am going to put the scarf back on, and there will be no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Do you understand?” She scolded him as she dusted off the scarf and began to wrap around his neck.

 

“Yes, mama.” He mumbled under his breath.

 

“You can take it off when we go home, okay?” She said, dusting off any remaining snow.

 

“Yes, mama,” he repeated.

 

She sighed as she got up. Of course he didn’t feel any cold – they were gods. Gods weren’t supposed to feel the cold, or the heat, or hunger, or pain; they were supposed to be above such things. But while gods they might be, Thor and Loki were still children, and Hela never had to raise children before, and she didn’t want to be reckless. She knew she could handle the temperatures, and fuck, even Loki with his heritage would probably do alright – but what parent would willingly subject their child to the cold? For _no_ reason?

 

She remembered. She must have been a little older than Thor was now, when Odin commanded her to hike on a frozen mountain with little else than the clothes on her back. To build resilience.

 

What a terrible idea.

 

She lifted both of them up when the crowd started counting, placing them as high as she could so they could get a better view. “5…. 4…..3…..2…..1! Happy New Year!” She and Thor shouted alongside the crowd, while Loki just kept staring at the fireworks show.

 

Happy New Year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With cleanliness came mindfulness.

 

That’s how the saying went, right?

 

She didn’t actually know.

 

Regardless of however the saying actually went or what it truly meant, Hela had long decided that it was a _great_ time to clean up the apartment, especially with the ringing of the New Year. She had recently bought Thor a new mattress due to a sale, and since they were going to have to move things _anyways_ in order to even fit the _damn_ thing, she might as well clean the apartment too. She was acutely (and sorely) aware that no longer being the heiress to an expansive empire meant she would have to do it herself, since she no longer had servants. Cleaning was something Hela never really liked, especially because she preferred to live in organized messes. However, it was just a fact of life that she had to clean eventually, and she refused to live in a pigsty.

 

Besides, it’d be two birds with one stone, wouldn’t it?

 

So, she had woken up early in the morning. She put on coffee-stained shorts, and a faded t-shirt, put on gloves, and made sure to cover her mouth with a black bandana. She opened up all the windows in the apartment, and she just cleaned.

 

With a trashcan in hand, Hela opened up the fridge and the cabinets, looking for anything empty or off-smelling to throw away. As she did so, she started to realize just how many boxed dinners she had bought, since she had never to cook for herself before (let alone for two children). She couldn’t even call the basic survival for battlefield skills she knew “cooking” either. Basic survival only got you so _far_. Basic survival ensured you stayed _alive_ , and little else. It didn’t always (or actually) help feed two growing boys in the city, which is why she started buying them in the first place so they could have some kind of meal.

 

She frowned as she threw the empty boxes away. This year, she decided, she’d really learn how to really cook. It couldn’t be that hard. If she could learn to decapitate someone in seventeen different ways, she could cook.

 

Once all the garbage was tossed into the trash, she cleaned out the rest of the fridge and cabinets; scrubbing away old food stains and dusting away spider cobwebs wherever she saw them. Her own bedroom was easy; she just had to brush all the dog hairs away from the floor and on her bed, fold up the blankets and set out clothing for laundry. The bathroom was easily the most time consuming part, and honestly, the most humiliating. But as time dragged on, and as she finally finished cleaning of all the grime from the bathtub, Hela could admit there was a small sense of pride. A sense of accomplishment she hadn’t felt in quite some time, and over something seemingly minor….

 

Ah, she was growing soft, she knew it.

 

Hela sighed as she mopped the kitchen and the living room, because instead of helping her with something, anything, Fenris found it more fun to sleep on the dining room table and get dog hair all over that. Dog hairs she’d have to clean up later. “You really are the _worst_ , Fenris. I’m a loyal master. I give you everything you want, and expect only a few things in return, and this is how you treat me? At least I’m putting in an effort!” She scolded him, and Fenris only whined in return.

 

“Oh, stop it. I hate cleaning, and you don’t see _me_ complaining.” She rolled her eyes.

 

Thor had gotten up a little while later, with little Loki still fast asleep. She asked him if he could round up all the dirty laundry to put them in the hamper. He complained about having to clean – especially since it was something he never had to do before – but she just rolled her eyes and stood her ground. “No one else is going to do it, Thor,” she reminded him. “We have to clean our house ourselves, and you’re not going to tell me you want to live in a pigsty, are you?” She asked him gently.

 

“No, mama.” He said. She thanked the Nine Realms Thor was easily reasoned with – sometimes, at least.

 

“And if you help me, I’ll take you and Loki out for breakfast, okay?” She did just clean out most of the fridge, after all.

 

“Anywhere?” He excitedly asked. If there was ever a way to get him to do what you wanted him to, it was surely through food. She had been the same way at his age.

 

“Within reason,” she said, and he went off to work.

 

It was a very productive Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It had shocked her when she first realized it, but her little Thor was going to have to be enrolled in the local elementary school in the fall. A co-worker had casually asked how old her eldest son was going to be, and then joked when she didn’t realize he was going to have to go to school soon. She had somehow missed the memo that children grew, and they grew fast, and soon enough, her little Thor wouldn’t be so little anymore.

 

The thought had given her a strange feeling; neither happiness nor sadness, nor apathy or anger.

 

She had never known this feeling before.

 

Pushing such thoughts aside, now that she had been finally able to acquire a mattress for him, it was about time that Thor got his own room. She distantly remembered being given her own room around his age. While this room of his would not be like hers – grand, large, a balcony with a view – it was going to be his, and that’s what was going to be most important.

Surprisingly, Thor was more than a little upset. He had been sniffling and following after her, clinging to her leg. He still wanted to be with her in her room, and he was afraid he was going to feel alone in his new one. She had found it strange, at first, since Thor was not so hesitant on change – he charged forward without thinking, most of the time – until she found out Loki had apparently spooked Thor half to death with stories of shadow monsters and closet bullies. She’d have to talk to him about it later, but she did understand where Thor was coming from.

 

He hadn’t had the chance to be on his own just yet, in his own room. Frigga had stayed with him most of the time back on Asgard when she could, and Thor had stuck by Hela’s side on Migard. It was only natural that he felt like maybe he was going to be abandoned, as illogical as it was. She knew that she didn’t feel very safe in her old room the first time she was left alone in it. So, she kneeled down, and told him all the good things his own room would bring. He’d have a bed all to himself, a place to store all his favorite things, and it could get as messy as he wanted – as long as he cleaned it, of course. And if he ever felt lonely, he could let Fenris into the room, and her wolf would stay with him.

 

 “Besides, do adventurers get afraid of being alone?” She asked, smiling.

 

“No,” he sighed. “But can this adventurer still be with his mom?”

 

She laughed. “If you ever have a nightmare, you can always come into my room. I promise.” She kissed his forehead, and he hugged her tightly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By now, she had learned that the landlord’s daughter was named Sophie, and that her husband was named Mark.

 

Mark had brought all the bedroom stuff in his car, for the most part; Hela and Sophie had a fun, awkward time taking the mattress out and pulling it upstairs. Mark had asked if they needed any help, and Sophie laughed, asking it looked like she needed any help. “It weight close to nothing, Mark! We’re fine – we just need to wrangle it up some stairs.”

 

“…Wrangle?” She asked.

 

“Ah, like – when you herd goats and cows and stuff,” Sophie explained.

 

“I didn’t realize you could herd a mattress.”

 

As Sophie snorted, Hela didn’t tell her she was carrying most of the weight.

 

If she was honest – which she felt like she was – Hela didn’t _need_ their help. Hela was the Goddess of Death, The Executioner, and she could easily carry a mountain if she wanted to. Still, to play the role of a human meant acting within human limits. A woman her age would perhaps not find it _that_ difficult to carry up a mattress with some help – the stairs were the real killer here – but she would still require _some_ help. That meant Hela required some help. Therefore, she had asked Mark and Sophie, who were all too glad and too willing, deceived by lies upon lies. And what reason would they ever have to question poor Hela, a single mom who was working to support two boys in an unforgiving world?

 

She thought it would eventually _irk_ her; being treated like a peasant, with no respect, with no family. And yet, that wasn’t happening. Acting like a human was starting to get less tiring, if only just a little. And for as human and as simple as Sophie and Mark were, she liked them. She liked her father. She even liked some of her co-workers.

 

And it dawned on her, as Sophie rested her arm on her shoulder, as Mark happily shoved the mattress into the doorway, that they truly considered her a friend. She wasn’t just tolerated because they were servants or warriors working under her father. They didn’t just tolerate her because she was Odin’s daughter. She was no longer Odin’s daughter. She was just Hela.

 

And she liked it.

 

“Hey, Hela? You’re zoning out a little! Are you okay, do you need some water?” Sophie asked, worried, as Hela regained focus.

 

“I’m sorry, I just got lost in thought.”

 

They all had a great time putting the bed together in Thor’s new room. . Sophie bought fancy bottle lemonade to celebrate, and Thor even helped out a little with the construction of his bed. She couldn’t trust (nor let) him do more then hold wood or move boxes out of the way, as Mark did most of the work, but it was still help nevertheless. She ruffled his hair, telling him he did a good job as Mark finished the rest of the constructed and secured any loose ends. Sophie and Hela lifted the mattress onto the frame, and Thor put his blanket and pillow on. He picked the sheets out himself – all blue with a traffic pattern. It looked cute.

 

 “Now the kid just needs a dresser that isn’t a cardboard box,” Mark joked.

 

Hela laughed, as Thor explored his new bed. He seemed to really like it. “Yeah, that’s on the agenda.”

 

“You know….. I’m really good with wood.” Sophie mentioned, looking at the bed.

 

“Well, you’re _married_ ,” Hela chuckled.

 

Sophie playfully hit Hela in the shoulder. “I meant like carpentry! It’s a hobby of mine, you know! I bet I could make you a new dresser.”

 

“I couldn’t possibly take it. You’re always so busy, Sophie.” From the little she had known about Sophie, it seemed a lot to ask to make a dresser while the woman was still raising kids of her own and also working.

 

“Nah, come on, we’re friends! And I never said it was for free,” she laughed. “You’ll still have to pay, just not as much. Family discount.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Summer reared its ugly head again, and the blazing heat scorched her bare neck.

 

This year, Thor had wanted a beach trip for his birthday. Apparently, he overheard some of the neighborhood kids talking about it, and wanted to discover the ocean for himself. She agreed to take him. Hela wasn’t _that_ big of a fan of the ocean – sea air made her nauseous – but _anything_ beat being _stuck_ in a small, shitty apartment with a broken air conditioner that her landlord had failed to fix. The damn thing broke far too easily, and despite constantly fanning herself and leaving the windows open at all times, it never made her less hot. It was _annoying_ , and she wanted _out_ as soon as possible.

 

So, she gladly packed all that they needed in a bag, and a small cooler.

 

As Loki and Thor ran alongside the tide as fast as their small legs could take them, Hela marched onwards on the beach, surveying the land before picking what she considered a decent enough spot. The beach was fairly crowded this time of year, and it was _frustrating_ to find a space that _wasn’t_ just in the middle of a bunch of strangers packed together like sardines. Part of her maybe would have _liked_ to put down her blanket right in the middle of this, and while Thor and Loki weren’t looking, cause a little chaos. It had always been fun! And she was feeling somewhat miserable – why shouldn’t everyone else?

 

And yet, a larger part of her didn’t feel as compelled to do so, and just wanted to sit down.

 

_You’re not responsible enough, Hela. How can I trust you on the throne?_

 

Strange.

 

Eventually, Fenris had left her side to join Thor and Loki. Fenris had also decided, for some odd reason, that he was going to bark at the ocean as if he had never seen it before. She sighed as she hitched their small dark umbrella, and laid a dark green towel on the sand, moving their cooler under the umbrella. “I’m sure the ocean is sorry for whatever it did, boy,” she called out to him, but it only made him bark at the incoming waves more. Loki, confused, barked alongside Fenris while Thor laughed, and barked along with them.

 

Nine Realms, she didn’t understand this dog sometimes.

 

 

Running her hand on the cooler, she had been sorely tempted to stuff it with a bunch of alcohol, before reminding herself that this was supposed to be a family trip with her children, and giving the equivalent of a five year old cinnamon scotch was frowned upon. Even if Midgardian alcohol was severely watered down. She couldn’t even get _drunk_ anymore, and that was half the fun in drinking! She sighed. But that was a good thing, wasn’t it? She was a mother now, and she had to be responsible. She at least had to _look_ responsible. So, she had filled the cooler with water, juice and soda. Maybe when they were older, she’d be able to sneak in a few beers…

 

Just as she was about to relax, putting her shades on her head and cracking open the book she brought, Thor came running with Loki slowly tailing behind. “Mama! Mama, Loki doesn’t know how to swim!” He called out to her, and she sighed, putting her book down.

 

“I haven’t taught him yet,” she responded casually.

 

“Can you teach him then? I want to look for sea monsters!” Thor grinned, excited.

 

“Thor, there are no sea monsters in the ocean,” she sighed as Loki finally came. Well, maybe not in this ocean…. Stars, she hoped not.

 

“Do you want to learn how to swim, Loki?” She asked him, and after a moment, he nodded. “Alright, let’s go swim then.”

 

With newfound excitement, Thor went back to the ocean as Hela and Loki stayed near the shore, and Hela did her best to teach Loki how to swim. It was fairly frustrating, if she was honest. She had never been the teaching type, and everything she knew, she either just _knew_ , or had to learn all by herself. As she struggled to show him balance, Loki seemed upset that Thor had an easier time. “…He’s always better than me.”

 

“That’s not true, Loki. Just because you and Thor are good at different things, it doesn’t mean he’s better than you,” she tried explaining, but Loki still seemed a little upset.

 

So, she had whispered into his ears something she was confident he could do. But he could only do it once, and he had to make sure only he and Thor knew. She also made sure he knew to be careful. Loki grinned and went underwater.

 

It was better if it was Loki, after all.

 

With all the waste Midgardians put in their oceans, she half expected a radiated fish man to appear out the water.

 

 

 

She returned to the towel on the beach, and adjusted her black two-piece swim suit and white jacket as she sat in the shadow of the umbrella, leaning over the cooler to read the book she had brought. It was called The Highs and Sighs of Life, authored by a man called Matthew Jackson. The summary had intrigued her when she first came upon it. The summary described that for many of the potential readers out there, life had been a pre-determined plan mostly influenced by parents and society. The summary then asked how was it that they had truly gotten there, and if there had been a better way. Could there have been something different? Another type of answer? And it resonated with her.

 

_If being a single father of two hyper active little girls has taught me anything, it’s that life truly does not have a singular path. As far back as I can remember, my plan was for me to do well in school, go to college, meet a pretty lady and eventually have a traditional family. I’d retire and I’d grow old with my wife as my children repeated the process. However, that’s not what happened. I failed high school. I dropped out of college, and the most gorgeous woman in my life left me after only four years._

_In truth, we are all stumbling wildly in the bush, both enticed and bewildered by the tall wild grass. And despite the end of the path being the exact same – death – we struggle onwards, believing that no one else has ever felt the way we feel. This hunger, this ever encompassing desire lures us to strike out a different path._

_And how many paths there are!_

_Perhaps the meaning of our lives will always to be in search of a better answer. And though we may never reach it, we seek it just the same._

 

Hela wondered if she had found such a path yet.

 

 

 

After a little while, she called them both back for a drink and to reapply sunscreen on both of them. She wasn’t so worried about Thor; the future thunder god could probably handle the sun well enough, but she worried more over Loki and how he was feeling. She did not have extensive interaction with any Jotunn to know more than the basics, but surely being in a hot place when he was meant to be cold was irritating? Thor tolerated the sunscreen just fine, and ran off with his juice, but Loki kept complaining, saying that it smelled weird, felt slimy, and that he didn’t like it.

 

She chuckled. “Do you want to be made fun of by Thor for looking like a tomato?”

 

Loki gasped. “No! He’ll never let it go.”

 

“Then hold still and stop squirming. It’ll be over soon, okay?” She told him as she squirted more sunscreen into her hand.

 

“Yes, mama…” Loki sighed, and sipped on his juice box.

 

 

 

After a fruitless search for more sea monsters – Thor failed to realize it was Loki – they sat on the sand to build sandcastles. Thor was trying (and failing) to make a traditional, Midgardian fairytale castle, Loki was making what he called a cave castle, and against her better judgment, Hela couldn’t help but mold her own sandcastle after Asgard. As she worked on the final details, she knew she wasn’t going back. She knew she could never go back. And yet, her heart yearned for its golden splendor, its peaks and valleys, and the view from the Bifrost. How Asgard had dazzled in the sun, and how she dazzled along with it.

 

“….It’s home!” Thor said, recognizing the castle.

 

“…Home?” Loki asked curiously.

 

“Asgard,” she said. “It’s where you two are from. I’m from there too.”

 

“Can we go there one day?” Loki asked, and she quietly shook her head.

 

“I don’t think we’ll be able to, Loki. I’m sorry. I would have liked for you to see it.” She wiped her eyes before tears could fall. Damn it, she wasn’t going to cry over her stupid father and her sad mother and her old home. She was supposed to be _better_ than this.

 

Thor was quiet for a moment, before hugging her. “I like it here better, Mama. You’re not sad anymore.” She sighed as she hugged him back, and Loki joined in too.

 

“..If it made Mama sad, I don’t like it,” Loki muttered as Hela laughed.

 

“Oh, I love you two very much. Asgard does make me sad, but it's home. And you can’t get rid of your feelings for home,” she sighed. “No matter how much you try.”

 

 

 

 

After the tide washed away their sand Asgard, they walked alongside the tide again to look for sea shells. Thor explained to her that he managed to find one sea monster, and she shook her head, saying that it was actually Loki who had shape shifted. Loki snickered as Thor seemed upset at not finding a real sea monster, but quickly got over it to ask her about Loki’s powers.

 

“What’s shape shifting?” Thor asked.

 

“It’s when you change shape. Like a bird turning into a cat. Or a dog turning into a sheep. Or Loki turning into a sea monster.” She explained.

 

“How?” He asked again.

 

“Magic,” she said.

 

He grinned. “Can I shape shift too!?”

 

She shook her head. “No. I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

 

“But Loki can? That’s unfair!” He frowned. Loki only snickered more.

 

“That’s magic, Thor. Everyone gets something a little different. One day, you’ll discover things you can do that Loki will never be able to do.” She explained again.

 

“Really? When!” He asked, excited all over again.

 

“When you’re older, Thor. When you’re older.” She told him.

 

“Aw…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In August, Hela had to attend a small tour of the school she was enrolling Thor into the next month.

 

For some awful reason, she felt extremely nervous, and hadn’t gone to bed easy that night. She found herself restless – tossing and turning, waking up at random intervals, and staring at the ceiling. She ended up waking up Loki up with her thrashing. In a sleep voice, he asked her if she was okay, and she lied, saying she was fine. He looked at her like he didn’t believe her, but she kissed his forehead and told him to go back to sleep, and that she was sorry for waking him up.

 

She left Loki on the bed with Fenris, and gently closed the door.

 

 _Ugh_. Not only would she _not_ be able to go back to sleep, she made herself tired and sore. Since she had extra time on her hands, she decided was going to _utilize_ it. She ate an early breakfast, took a long shower, brushed her teeth, packed a lunch for Thor and picked an outfit to wear. Due to most of her money going to food, bills and rent – and only having taken _essentials_ – she no longer had clothes that would leave much of an impression. But that was – that was _fine_. Looking normal was _fine_. So long as she walked with pride, she’d be respected. She reminded herself that part of confidence was simply faking confidence.

 

She settled on a white long sleeved sweater and black pants with flats.

 

Everything would be _fine_.

 

The school’s name was Oakland Elementary. It was a few miles from their apartment, and had been established in the early sixties. From what she had read, the school had a good reputation, and the staff she had talked to seemed nice. It wasn’t as that mattered. She didn’t have much of a choice. It was the closest school with a bus program, and she needed that option because she didn’t have a car. Still, Oakland’s good reputation made settling for it much easier.

 

As she walked into the office, the receptionist looked her up and down before giving her forms she needed to fill out. Hela scoffed as she sat down, and Thor sat next to her, looking at everything in the small office. Ugh. It would be so easy to curse her, wouldn’t it? Make it so she would only see the face of death in every shadow she came across, that when she woke up in the mirror, all she could see was a monster staring back to her. But that would be too petty, and too much effort. She just needed to focus on filing out the forms, and everything would be fine -

 

“Is this my school?” He asked.

 

Hela nodded. “This will be your school, yes.”

 

“…Did you ever go to school, Mama?” He asked, and she shook her head.

 

“No. I was privately tutored. I wasn’t allowed to go to school.” She casually explained, as she continued filing the papers out.

 

“Why?” He asked again.

 

“Because Father said so,” she said.

 

After returning the forms, the tour started not long after. Hela took Thor’s hand as the principal – an older woman in a blue suit named Jane – showed them around the hallways, the classrooms, and anything else that was going to be relevant to their children’s education. The first thing she noticed was the rooms were very bright, and rather colorful. The second thing she noticed was the rooms were... rather small for how many children seemed to be in attendance. It looked as though they were going to be packed like sardines. Well, Thor was a social butterfly. He’d be fine, she was sure…

 

_Are you doing well on your studies, Hela?_

_She stared out the large window of the royal library, only halfway into her large stacks of books she had to read for the week. Why did she have to read so many books? Couldn’t she learn more by doing? Still, Father had insisted on her being well-read, so she had been up since before dawn. He had come to check on her._

_Yes, Father! I already –_

 

She needed to stop thinking about that.

It didn’t take long for her to notice that she was the only young woman in the group. Every other woman was slightly older, or just older, and some even came with their husbands. Hela, on the other hand, was young, single, and alone, with no one to speak for her. And people didn’t learn how to whisper quietly enough.

 

_Are you sure that’s her son? They look nothing alike…_

 

_Well, she probably ran with the wrong crowd. Probably got pregnant in high school._

_I bet the father ran off when she told him, or when he found out. It’s really her fault for believing those lies._

 

_I can’t imagine how her family must feel – if they’re even around. My mother would disown me if I had a son that young._

_Well, at least she’s responsible enough. She’s taking him to school?_

 

_Ah, what does it matter? The boy probably isn’t going to be raised right._

 

_Doesn’t she **regret** it?_

 

“It smells nice,” Thor said, and it threw her off guard.

 

“What?” She asked.

 

“The school smells nice! I like it,” he said, and she laughed.

 

“Oh, Thor, you say the strangest things. But if you like it, we’ll make sure you get in, okay?” She told him as she smiled.

 

At the end, she decided she liked the school. The principal seemed passionate despite her age, and the few teachers that had come early to prepare their lesson plans seemed enchanted by Thor. Yes, she was side-eyed by the other parents and their children. Yes, she had been _judged_ , but she had already been judged to hell and back. She just glared at the worst of them and _dared_ them to say anything. It spooked enough of them to stop talking, and she was proud of herself. It was all she could ask for.

 

And Thor liked the school, so all was well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The school had requested for a physical exam and vaccinations before Thor would be allowed into school. The administrator who was telling her this must have sensed her nervousness, because she had gone on a tangent reassuring Hela that the requirements were nothing to be worried about if her child was healthy and strong (which Thor was – which Thor _definitely_ was). It was only to ensure that Thor wasn’t secretly carrying any contagious diseases that could spread around the school and vice versa. It was nothing to be worried about, she had said.

 

“Some symptoms don’t show up until days or weeks for certain diseases. That’s why vaccines are so important.”  She explained.

 

“Ah, I’m just worried about… Thor,” she said, trying to hide her nerves.

 

“First visit in a while, huh? It’ll be okay, Ms. Barnes. Thor’s at the age where he wouldn’t fuss too much, and you can bribe him with candy if he gets too upset.” The administrator laughed, and Hela smiled.

 

That wasn’t what she had been worried about.

 

As she sat in a chair, watching Thor play with the other children in the playroom, Hela worried over what they would find. The average Asgardian was strong, powerful, lived long and hardly got sick. They were a hearty people that longed for nothing, and she could already hear some of her old guards and tutors laughing at her as she sat in a stark white room surrounded by sick and tired adults while some stupid reality court drama played in the background. It was a pathetic sight, really, and an excellent excuse in misery.

 

But Thor wasn’t a normal Asgardian.

 

He was a god.

 

They were _gods_.

 

They could level mountains and cities, destroy anyone in their path. While the future for Thor was still uncertain, she had seen what Odin could _do_. And if Thor was his son, she could only imagine the power he might gain. No one could match her with a blade, and injuries did nothing – how could you kill death itself – and Loki? Well. She didn’t exactly know where Loki stood, but she was sure Frigga would be teaching him magic, and Loki was a clever boy – he could find a thousand years to beat something, she was sure.

 

What would the exams show?

 

Hela shook her head. No, they wouldn’t show anything, she tried convincing herself. Midgardian technology couldn’t _measure_ magic. They didn’t even know what magic _was_. Everything would be fine. She was just panicking for absolutely no reason, and acting like a fool on top of it. A man sitting next to her chuckled, asking if she was alright.

 

“You seem pretty tense, little lady.” He winked at her, and for some reason, she felt uncomfortable.

 

“… I’ve just been having a bad day. I think I woke up sick.” She said, trying to shrug it off.

 

“Probably should have stayed in bed, then. I wouldn’t be running after my younger brother sick, no matter what Pa told me.” He said.

 

“He’s my son.” She replied.

 

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“I have a doctor’s appointment for my son.” She said again.

 

“…” The man sighed, and shrugged.

 

“Probably should have stayed in bed then. Little boys are hellions.”

 

She smiled.

 

“Yeah, they are.”

 

They called his name, and she called him over. She took his hand as a nurse led them into a small room where the doctor was waiting for them.  The man smiled at her, and shook her hand. He seemed okay. He had dark brown hair and eyes, and his little tag on his jacket said _Dr. Matthews_. She guessed it was his last name. Matthews smiled at Thor, clapping his hands together.

 

“Okay, are you ready?” He asked.

 

“Yeah!” Thor said.

 

The physical examination was…. Average, she guessed? Matthews checked Thor’s eyesight, hearing, and breathing, before measuring his height and weight. Thor didn’t really mind it at all – with how friendly Matthews treated him, she wouldn’t put it past him to think it was some kind of game he was trying to win. “Well, so far so good! I’d say he’s the picture of health. Thor is growing up fast, isn’t he? He’s a little taller than what I would expect at this age.”

 

She awkwardly chuckled. “I make sure he eats his greens. His father was… pretty tall.”

 

“Were all the men in the family fairly tall?” Matthews asked.

 

She took a moment, trying to remember old family portraits. “I think so.”

 

“Guess he’ll be a giant then. And he has the eyesight of a hawk! Remarkable.”

 

“…Hawk? What’s that?” Thor asked.

 

“It’s a type of bird, Thor. They’re bigger and hunt smaller birds. They can see very well, and they use their vision to hunt. That’s why I said what I said.” The doctor explained.

 

“Oh, okay!” He excitedly turned to her. “I’m a hawk, Mama.”

 

Hela laughed. “I’m sure you are.”

After that, they returned to the waiting room for a little while before they were escorted to the laboratory where Thor would get his blood drawn and get his shots. Out of all the things she expected to be called a laboratory, the room didn’t really seem like one. It was small, painted light blue, and had a kitchen sink and some cabinets, as well as two fridges. Blinds haphazardly covered a window to the street. It was still sunny.

 

To the nurse’s surprise, Thor didn’t cry or scream when they drew blood or did shots. He just showed mild discomfort, and the nurse cooed at him, telling him that he was a strong and a good boy. She rolled her eyes. Of course the nurse just _had_ to feed into little Thor’s ego, as he got a lollipop for good behavior. She smiled wide as she disposed of her gloves. “I’m honestly surprised! Most kids his age would have been crying, at the very least.”

 

She sighed. “That’s my Thor for you.”

 

“Now, remember Thor, you might feel pain in your arm for a day or two. That’s normal, and it’ll go away on its own. Okay?” She said to him gently, and he nodded.

 

She received a call a few days later about Thor’s results. As she gripped the landline phone, she was hesitant to answer. What if she had been _wrong_? What if they had _found_ something? But she couldn’t just ignore the doctor, could she? So, she picked up the phone.

 

“I’m sure you’re very surprised, Ms. Barnes but Thor is as healthy as a horse and ready for school! He’s shown no signs of anything wrong with him.” The doctor told her, laughing.

 

She sighed. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

 

“To be honest, I’ve never seen a kid quite as healthy as yours. It’s almost as if he’s a god!” He laughed.

 

She chuckled, nervously. “Ah, I guess I’ve been very blessed!”

 

When the call ended, she took a deep breath, put her phone down, and grabbed a beer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“But why do I have to wear a uniform? What can’t I wear my clothes!”

 

She sighed, for the millionth time. “Because that’s the school’s rules, Thor.”

 

“But –“

 

“You follow my rules, don’t you? You can follow the school rules, too.”

 

He sighed. “….Yes, mama.”

 

Unsurprisingly, getting school uniforms for Thor was as much as trouble as she knew it was going to be. To Thor, uniforms were _restrictive_ , and he didn’t like _restrictive_. But the sad truth was that Thor _needed_ to wear a uniform to go to school, and Thor _did_ really want to attend school. And it took her a ridiculous amount of time to convince him. She had made it very clear – if he didn’t want to wear it, he couldn’t go to school, and there would be no ifs, ands, or buts about it. And eventually, he agreed.

 

“It won’t be that bad, Thor.” She said as she held his hands and as they entered the small clothing store. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices in order to get what you want. Yes, maybe wearing the same shirt will be annoying, but you’ll make so many more friends that you’ll forget all about it. And you can still choose the colors.”

 

And what colors they were – an off-white, navy blue, and black. Midgardians were sure _creative_.

 

“Okay, mama.”

 

He still looked down at the ground as she bought what he needed. She sighed. Hopefully, he’d get over it soon.

 

 

 

“Now, Thor. I need to tell you something important,” she said, as they were walking home.

 

“Yes, mama?” He said.

 

“You’re going to be taking the bus to go to school. You’re too young to walk on your own, and I don’t want you getting into trouble. There are bad people out there, and I don’t want them hurting you, okay? The second you get off the bus, you go home and nowhere else unless I say it’s okay.” She told him sternly.

 

“But what about magic –“He asked, as she shook her head.

 

“Thor, I told you. You still have to grow up a little before you use magic. And furthermore, I want no magic talk at school, or outside the apartment.” She told him.

 

“But why? What’s wrong with magic? It’s cool!” Thor protested, frowning.

 

She sighed, as she bent down and placed her hands on his shoulders. “People are afraid of what they don’t understand, Thor. And sometimes, they’ll want to hurt you for it. Again, I don’t want you getting hurt. That would make me sad, and you don’t want me sad, do you?”

 

“No, mama.” He said softly.

 

“Since you were a good boy today, let’s get you ice cream, okay?” She smiled.

 

“Two scoops?” He grin excitedly.

 

“Two scoops.” She chuckled.

 

 

 

Loki laughed when he saw Thor in his new uniform. Hela had been sure she had gotten the right size, but she had wanted to check while she still could. Loki walked in, and he laughed.

 

“Now, Loki, don’t laugh at your brother. It’s not nice.” She scolded him.

 

“Yeah! You’ll have to wear this too you know!” Thor said, still upset.

 

“What?” Loki said.

 

“Didn’t I tell you? You’ll be enrolled in the same school eventually, Loki. And you’ll have to wear the uniform.” She told him as Thor ran off to his room to take off the uniform. “Put it in the hamper, Thor.”

 

She expected Loki to be upset too. But he wasn’t.

 

He just didn’t say anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fall crept in through her window pane, as she admired the warm colors of the dying trees.

 

This year, for Loki’s birthday, he asked for a green cake, and he wanted to help her. He said he was bigger now, almost as big as Thor, and that meant he could start helping her. She laughed, and kissed his forehead.

 

“You’re still a little kid, Loki. You don’t need to be in a rush to grow up.” She said softly.

 

“…. I don’t like being a kid. I wanna be grown up already.” He said, and she sighed.

 

“Tell you what. You can help with the cake, but drop growing up. Childhood is precious, Loki. Don’t waste it, okay?” She said as she hugged him.

 

“Okay, mama.” He said as he hugged her back.

 

_Well? Are you going to kill him or not?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite seemingly having all the time in the world, Hela was surprised when she found out she wasn’t ready to let Thor go.

 

It was the first day of school, and she had packed his lunch, and made sure all his books, notebooks, and pencils were in his small red backpack. And as Thor and Loki ate breakfast on the small table, she knew Thor was growing up. He’d be all on his own at school, for the very first time. It was so silly wasn’t it? To be so upset at this? Quietly, she wiped her eyes in the bathroom and came out with a smile.

 

“Thor, your bus will be here soon. Finish up and put your plates in the sink.” She told him.

 

“Yes, mama.”

 

And somehow, despite always wanting to experience something new, her little Thor was trembling. It was only natural, she supposed. Just like in the spring, it was just like getting a new room. Fun, but oh so scary at the same time. And even though he was upset, he was trying to put on a brave face. She sighed, and bent down to hug him. “It’ll be okay, Thor. You have nothing to worry about.”

 

“…What if people don’t like me,” he said quietly.

 

“Who wouldn’t like you, Thor? You’re a good and fun kid. You know what? Treat it like your next big adventure.” She said, smiling wide.

 

They hugged tight as his bus arrived, and she waved goodbye as he disappeared between yellow steel walls. The bus drove away, and she was crying all over again. She shook her head, and wiped her tears with her sleeves. She needed to stop being so _ridiculous_. He’d be fine, and all would be well, and she had still had to work…

 

At the end of the day, she was right. She laughed as he told her all the new friends he had made, and all the things he learned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just as with Thor, Loki was growing up fast too.

 

Just yesterday, she could have sworn he was just a little baby who still needed to be breastfeed and cried over every little thing. But now, he was growing up. He could walk, and run, and talk, and make all sorts of silly faces. He could eat on his own, and he was starting to read more. She was surprised at just how fast he was learning words – much faster than Thor, and this often led to completion between the two to see who was better. She sighed. Boys would be boys.

 

Loki was getting to clever for his own good, she swore. Not only had he been frustrating Thor, he had been frustrating her as well. Simple, silly things – just pranks, switching salt for sugar, or scaring Fenris, but she did often worry. He _was_ going to be enrolled in school eventually, and she wanted him to succeed and not flounder his chances by being _too_ clever.

 

As she finished the story he wanted her to read that night, he looked up at her and asked something she didn’t think he asked again.

 

“…Why did you leave Asgard?” He said quietly, with big eyes.

 

“…What?” She said as she closed the book.

 

“Why did you leave Asgard, mama? That’s the place you said we were from, but you left it. Why?” He asked again.

 

“…It’s hard to say.” She said, sighing. “There are some things I don’t want you knowing until you’re older. I don’t want you to think it’s your problem to deal with.”

 

“But why?”

 

She sighed again.

 

“….I wasn’t being treated right. By your father. He was doing things that made me upset, and he didn’t want to listen to me. Or my mother. He didn’t listen to anyone.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“….I did things that made him upset, too. I… guess we might have both been at fault. But….. He went too far. So, I ran away with the both of you, so he wouldn’t hurt you. That’s why I left.” She said, looking down.

 

“…..Can you really not go back?” He asked sadly.

 

“No, probably not. Your father will just want to finish what he’s started. But… you know, if you really want to go, you can go. Maybe even with Thor.” She shrugged.

 

“…When we’re older.” He mumbled.

 

She chuckled. “Yes, when you’re older,” she said as she kissed him on the forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Rawr!”

 

“Thor, stop scaring Fenris. He will _bite_ you!”

 

“Mama, my bowtie!”

 

“Ah, sorry, Loki. I’ll pick it up.”

 

If she had been honest, she had never even heard of Halloween when she had taken all those rebellious trips to Midgard when she was younger. It took her a while to realize she usually visited Midgard in the _summer_ , not in the fall – therefore, Halloween wasn’t happening for anyone but the people who like to celebrate their weird holidays in the middle of June. But now that they had been here for more than a year, and Thor was going to school, he quickly found out what Halloween was.

 

And of course the kids wanted to celebrate.

 

She sighed as Fenris went to hide under the dining table as she fixed Loki’s bowtie. “Look at you, you sad mutt. I talked you up and this is what you do? Thor, I said stop it. If you don’t, you’ll be staying here alone and he’ll _really_ bite you.” She scolded him as Thor stopped.

 

“Yes, mama.”

 

Thor wanted to dress up like a werewolf, and Hela assumed he wanted to be like Fenris. It turned out that Thor dressed like a werewolf to scare Fenris, and it was _working_. Her most fearsome hound, scared by a mere child. What had they come to? Loki wanted to match with Hela, so Loki and she were vampires. He said he wanted to be a vampire because they were cool, scary, and secret, just like him. And since he was a mother’s boy…

 

Hela was now the vampire mother to a baby vampire and a werewolf with a lot of bravado.

 

“Come on, Thor. You do want candy, right? I don’t want you two staying out too late,” she said as Loki nodded, holding onto her cape.

 

“Okay, mama – are we taking Fenris with us?” He asked, smiling.

 

“Well, mutt? Are you going to hide under the table all night?” She smirked as Fenris left, going to nudge the door.

 

“Well, you’ll hold their buckets then.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanksgiving was a time to give thanks to family and friends.

 

That’s what she had read.

 

So, it surprised her that Sophie showed up on her doorstep, asking if she wanted to go their thanksgiving dinner.

 

“I think you’d really like it! And obviously you can take Thor and Loki, and your dog too! My household welcomes everyone! Ooh, you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? Yes, you are!” Sophie laughed as Fenris licked her face as she continued to pet him.

 

“….I’ve done nothing but take from you. Why should I be at your Thanksgiving dinner?” She asked.

 

“Hela! Come on, we’re friends, aren’t we? And you did pay me for that dresser! It’s just…. you’re alone, right? No mom, no dad? No…. partner?” Sophie awkwardly asked.

 

“No one but Thor and Loki.” She said.

 

“See! That’s exactly why you need to come. I promise we don’t bite, and it’ll be fun! My dad is begging me to invite you anyways. Maybe I should ask him to raise your rent…”

 

“No, please! I’ll go!” Hela said, panicked.

 

Sophie laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry! It’s just a joke. I’m not really going to do that! I just want you to feel like you have a family beyond your kids, you know? So…… if it’s okay?”

 

She nodded.

 

“I’ll go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winter settled into her bone, and left her frozen, but somehow, her heart had grown warmer.

 

 

It took her looking at a display window downtown, returning late from work, to realize they hadn’t celebrated Christmas last year, either.

 

She had only really celebrated her own birthday just before New Year’s, and that had been it. Things were still uncertain back then – she was just trying to get into the motions. But she did remember, how she reflected on the fear of walking on the bridge and how it started not to faze her at all. She laughed at herself, knowing now that the only thing she was worried about was raising Thor and Loki right, and making sure she kept her job.

 

Maybe she’d be a manager one day, if she worked at that chicken shithole long enough.

 

…

 

She’d make sure they would celebrate Christmas this year.

 

 

 

“….Mama, what’s that?”

 

“It’s a tree, Thor.”

 

“But it’s _different_.”

 

She laughed. “It’s a pine tree – Fenris, don’t bite it!”

 

Hela shooed her wolf away as she set up her pride and joy for the year – a small, real pine tree for Christmas. It did bite into her wallet, along with everything else, but she promised herself they would have a Christmas. And that she was going to get a tree, and now she had it! If only Fenris would stop trying to piss on it.

 

“What are we getting for Christmas, mama?” He asked excitedly.

 

“You’ll know on Christmas day, Thor. Not before.” She laughed as she ruffled his hair.

 

 

 

It had taken a few hours, but Hela felt as though it was worth it.

 

In the morning, she had taken turns with Thor and Loki to decorate their Christmas tree, while Fenris threw away the garbage like a good wolf. They had picked out traditional ornaments, like red, green and blue baubles and snowmen, but also characters from shows they liked, and even mini Christmas trees. She smiled as Thor and Loki tried to put on the star topper themselves before she picked Loki up, putting him on her shoulders and letting him finish the rest.

 

The presents were put under the tree next, and she had Fenris act as a watchdog, in case Loki or Thor thought about doing something funny.

 

In the afternoon, she had hung the few lights she was able to find – since she was usually the last person to enter a store – and making sure they wouldn’t fall. She also had to make sure that Loki wouldn’t try anything, since he was shape shifting more and she didn’t want him to act like a bird on live wire. It meant more dog duties for Fenris, but she promised her loyal hound she’d get him the biggest bone she could find if he put up with it.

 

He seemed okay with that!

 

 

 

“…Wow, Hela! This is so beautiful! I love what you did with the apartment!” Sophie smiled wide as she and Mark came in, putting their own presents under the tree in the corner. It seemed like a natural decision, to invite Sophie and Mark over for Christmas. Sophie had said at Thanksgiving that they were family, and Hela felt as though she should give back, even if Sophie’s kids couldn’t here too.

 

_They all got sick. Some virus at their school. Terrible._

 

“Oh, it was nothing.” Hela said, shrugging.

 

“Oh, come on! You did a great job – oh, and I smell rice pudding! You didn’t tell me you knew how to cook!” She laughed as she tried sneaking her way to the pot.

 

“I didn’t. I learned this year. You can have some if you want.” Hela laughed as Sophie ran all the rest of the way there, and grabbed a bowl from the cabinets. Lukewarm rice pudding with too much cinnamon – Thor and Loki loved it, but she wasn’t sure so a woman like Sophie could… until she smiled again and gave Hela a thumbs up.

 

She didn’t understand Sophie sometimes.

 

“Mama, when are we going to open our presents!” Thor asked, tugging on her ugly sweater.

 

“In a minute, Thor. Let me turn on the heater so Mark and Sophie can be comfortable, okay?”

 

“Okay, mama.”

 

Sophie laughed as she sat on the floor with her husband, eating her rice pudding with one hand and petting Fenris with the other. “Oh, man. I wish my boys were as well behaved as yours! It feels like I have to fight Randy on every little thing. And Brayden isn’t far behind!” Hela chuckled as she plugged in the heater and turned it on.

 

“Well, I like to think I’m a good authority figure.” She said, as she sat with them.

 

“Ugh, I need that. I keep being the fun parent and not a parent, you know? Oh, and sitting on the floor with a small heater on Christmas. Reminds me of being homeless.” Sophie laughed.

 

“…Can you not say that?” Hela said, gripping her hands together.

 

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean anything bad, it’s just that we were homeless for a while –“

 

Thor interrupted the conversation by dropping the presents in the middle of their group.

 

“Well! We better get started, huh?”

 

 

 

 

For Thor, Hela had bought him a remote control car. For Loki, she bought him a new series of mystery books. Thor and Loki fell in love with their gifts immediately, both giving her kisses on the cheek before running off to enjoy their presents. “No presents for your mother? That’s cruel,” Sophie said as Hela got the presents for Sophie and Mark.

 

“Eh, it’s fine. Just being here and being alive with them is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present,” she joked.

 

“Oh, you rascal! What did you get us?” Sophie asked.

 

For Sophie, she had gotten a custom bath set, full of… relaxing ingredients? It said so on the box, so Hela hoped it was right. And for Mark, she had given him a new wallet, since he had lost his old one a few months ago. And surprisingly, Sophie and Mark got her a few presents too.

 

“So, here’s a whiteboard with a calendar, since you’re a busy lady! With two rambunctious boys. And here’s some new underwear because you work too hard not to feel good, and…. Ta-da! The latest cellphone. I figure you could use more than a landline phone, you know?” Sophie smiled.

 

“I – I can’t. This is too much. I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

 

“Hela, what did I tell you! You’re family, and we love you. We want you to have a good Christmas too.”

 

Sophie hugged her, and Hela hugged her back.

 

“Thank you.”

 

 

 

After some good chatting with Sophie and Mark, Loki came up to her quietly and asked if he could give her something.

 

“Sure, Loki. What is it?” She smiled, and gasped when he handed her a paper.

 

It was a family portrait of the four of them – Hela, Thor, Loki and Fenris. On the back, it read _Merry Christmas to the best mom ever._

 

“Do you like it, Mama?” Loki asked, with big eyes.

 

“I love it,” she said, and hugged him tight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Near midnight, Mark took it upon himself to put the children to bed, while Hela and Sophie cleaned up the dishes and put away any leftover food.

 

“Crazy year, huh? Feels like you came up out of nowhere and yet, here we are. Washing some dirty dishes like sisters being scolded by their mom.” Sophie joked, and Hela laughed.

 

“Someone has to get it done.” Hela remarked.

 

“Yeah. That’s true.” Sophie nodded.

 

Sophie was silent for a moment, before continuing. “You better put that lingere I bought you to good use, you know? Get yourself a man or a …. Woman.”

 

“You noticed?” Hela asked.

 

“Nah, you just seem like the type to like women. Not that I’m judging or anything. I’m too poor to judge.” They laughed.

 

“But seriously, Hela. Find yourself someone. I don’t think you need help to raise your kids, but… before you know it, they’re going to grow up and live their own lives and make their own families, and you’ll still be alone. Yeah, it’s nothing you need to worry about now but… it’ll happen, you know? And I’m worried.” Sophie said, and Hela smirked.

 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were offering.”

  
  
“Hell no! Well, maybe if Mark leaves, but… I don’t want to think those things, you know? Yeah, the future is certain and maybe we’ll split up somehow, but I wanna enjoy the good times while they last. So… you know, it’s a maybe. You better be ready for four boys if it ever comes to past.” Sophie laughed again, and gave a playful punch to Hela’s shoulder.

 

“I’ll be ready.”

 

 _One year older_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
> 
> First, I would like to take the time to apologize for my absence. I promised to you guys that I would update roughly every month around the 29th, and instead, I don't update this fic for half of a year. I'm truly sorry. A lot happened, and I wasn't able to keep the promise I should have. From now on, I will be sure to inform you when my schedule will be off. Like, right now? Don't expect an update til late Feburary, because I want to update my other fics first. I promise you'll get content then.
> 
> Some fun other stuff
> 
> -Found out Fenris is canonically a girl wolf and not a boy wolf. Whoops! Guess he's going to be a male in this AU.  
> -The holiday stuff was literally written like hours before I updated so I apologize if it's rushed because it is.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


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